


Black Sheep

by IvoryAthena



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Cheerleaders, F/F, Femslash, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvoryAthena/pseuds/IvoryAthena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin, commonly known around campus for impressive grades and even more impressive cheerleading tricks, is thrown when a new semester introduces a new presence in her life - a good-for-nothing stoner named Allison Argent. </p><p>Who just happens to like fucking girls.</p><p>Why Lydia fixates on that so much, she's not sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Fuck off, you would not!”

Boyd laughed at Cora’s shock before taking another drag from the joint pinched in his fingers. He exhaled with a smirk and passed it along to Erica, who was contently lying in between his legs.

“I definitely would. I would definitely do Professor Deaton,” he replied. Erica, still holding in her breath of smoke, elbowed him lightly. Boyd flinched, then corrected himself.

“Sorry, if I were not already taken by a beautiful and feisty blonde who would take my balls and never give them back were I to ever hurt her,” he added, “ _then_ I would do Professor Deaton.” 

Erica exhaled and smirked.

“Better,” she said, leaning up to give him a light peck before passing the joint to the left.

“Okay, but Boyd is totally right,” Isaac weighed in other side as he sat up from the grass. “Deaton’s hot.”

“You think everyone is hot,” Allison stated simply, raising her eyebrows for emphasis as she took her turn with the joint. She held it gently between two fingers with chipping black nail polish. 

“What can I say? I’m like the opposite of shallow. Everyone has a chance to ride the Isaac train.”

Cora shoved him lightly with the arm that wasn’t currently holding the ukulele in her lap.

“You’re such a fucking horndog.”

“That’s big talk for you, Cor – remind me, was it two or three people I saw walk-of-shaming together from your dorm room last week?”

At that, smoke burst from Allison’s lungs in a loud laugh, quickly followed by a fit of coughing interspersed with giggles. She passed the joint on to an irritated Cora as the rest of the group chuckled along.

 

 

“Isn’t there someone on campus who can get those potheads written up?”  
  
Lydia looked up from her planner, which she’d been casually skimming over as she munched quietly on her strawberry-spinach salad. Her teammate Heather was glaring somewhere over Lydia’s shoulder.

“Sorry, who?”

Heather gestured in the direction of the group of students seated in the grass near their picnic table.

 

 

“Aw, come on Cor, don’t be like that,” Allison said after the group’s laughter had died down. Cora was sitting with the joint hanging out of her mouth, grumpily strumming along in minor chords. 

“Besides…” Allison continued as she leaned over. She took the joint Cora’s mouth, smirking at her flat expression before pressing their lips together. She allowed her tongue to skim the edge of Cora’s lips before pulling away.

“…I, for one, appreciate your high levels of horn-dogged-ness.”

The rest of the group let out a sarcastic awh-ing as Cora playfully smacked Allison on the arm.

 

 

Lydia stared entranced over her shoulder at the exchange between the two girls, her eyes following carefully the moment their lips made contact to when they broke apart, and the easy smiles that the two shared. 

“Fucking dykes,” Heather said, breaking Lydia out of her trance.

“Heather!”

“Sorry, I know, I know, ‘be nice to everyone’,” Heather backtracked, her hand coming up to play with the small gold cross around her neck. “But you know that they’re all like, trying to break into the mainstream and make everyone think it’s okay to be gay and stuff.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly going to start _actually_ following the Bible,” Lydia replied.

“I’m not, but Lydia, you and I grew up the same, and I know that you know it’s fucked up whether Jesus says so or not.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

The two went back to quietly chewing their food. Heather continued making occasional comments that Lydia nodded along to, though she wasn’t really paying attention. She tried to subtly glance back over her shoulder at the group in the grass and found herself making eye contact with one of the girls, who winked at her. Lydia quickly turned back around as the girl smirked coyly to herself.

“…I mean, that’s got to be like, a disturbance of the peace, or something?” Heather went on as Lydia tried her best to pay attention to her salad.

 

 

“Hey Al, that redhead over there keeps looking at you,” Erica noted, catching the movement from the nearby picnic table.

Allison looked back at the girl, eyeing up her perfectly ironed blue blouse tucked into a pencil skirt. She opened her mouth to comment, but Cora beat her to it. 

“Probably never seen a real-life lez before,” Cora said, not really paying attention to the rest of the conversation as she strummed along on her ukulele.

Allison laughed lightly, but kept her gaze on the girl. Sure enough, she looked over again and the two made eye contact. Allison winked, making the girl blush and immediately look away. She smirked to herself and lay down in the grass.

“Cute, though,” Isaac said.

“Horndog,” added Boyd. 

Allison smiled easily, spreading her arms out in the grass as she listened to her friends bicker familiarly with each other. In the warmth of the sun, she let her eyes fall shut briefly – or so it felt.

 “Al, you still with us?” Erica’s voice jolted Allison awake. Her body felt warm from where the sun had been soaking into the black fabric of her clothes.

 “What? Yeah, I uh,” Allison mumbled groggily, leaning up on her elbows. The redhead was no longer seated at the picnic table.

 “You were out for like twenty minutes, dude,” Cora said.

 “What?”

“Three days into the new semester and Ally’s already got midterm apathy. Now _that’s_ impressive,” Erica said, looking up at Boyd.

Allison picked up her phone. Her nap-assisted ease quickly turned tense when she saw the time.

“Shit, it’s almost two?” she panicked, tossing the few items around her into her canvas messenger bag. “I’ve got lecture in like three minutes.”

Almost immediately, Boyd covered his mouth with a hand and dropped into a low sports commentator voice.

“And after a _detrimental_ move of falling asleep on the track, Ally A desperately tries to get back in the race.”

The rest of the group laughed as Allison stood up.

“Y’all can go fuck yourselves,” she said with a smile on her face.

“We love you, Ally!” Isaac called as she turned to run to her lecture hall. She threw up a middle finger without looking back.

 

\--

Lydia’s gaze was slightly blurred as she zoned out on the Charlotte Bronte poster hanging on the wall of the classroom. She was barely listening to Professor Blake’s words as she quickly reviewed the term’s syllabus.

“Lydia, you alright?” Stiles asked from his seat to her right. “You seem… not all there.”

“What?”

“–So if you’ll all open up your books to page–“

The lecture was cut off abruptly when the brunette from earlier slammed through the door. She bee-lined to the desk at the front to pick up the handout that the rest of the class had received, cringing when the door shut loudly behind her.

“My bad, Jennifer,” she said, half-heartedly giving a salute to the tall woman who had been speaking in front of the class. Professor Blake paused and raised her eyebrows at the girl.

“Do not think our familiarity from last term means you can address me by anything other than Professor Blake, Allison,” she said. “Nor does it mean you can be late to my class.”

The girl – Allison, as Lydia had just learned – grabbed a paper from the desk and walked past where Lydia and Stiles were sitting to find a seat several rows back. Lydia followed her movement, just as Stiles huffed out a quiet sound of surprise beside her.

“You got it, Jen,” Allison said, making an exaggeratedly comprehending face as she signed OK with her hand. Several other students chuckled, but died down when Professor Blake’s mouth flattened into a line. Her expression quickly softened, however, and she lightly rolled her eyes before resuming her lecture.

“Who the fuck is that girl?” Stiles asked quietly to Lydia, who was now full-fledged staring at the class disrupter. Allison pulled a laptop out of her bag, decorated with a variety of artistic stickers, but the one that caught Lydia’s eye was in bold font and read ‘QUEER AS FUCK’. 

Lydia ignored Stiles and continued to watch Allison, who was now quietly typing away.

“Lydia,” he said, to no response.

She looked the strange girl over, observing the combat boots and following up her tight black skinny jeans to the cut up Joan Jett t-shirt that hung loosely over her slender figure. The ensemble caused Lydia to feel strangely self-conscious about her own office-chic attire.

 

 

Allison wasn’t exactly paying attention to the lecture – she had opened up a word document and was organizing the headers for optimal visual appeal before she was to start taking notes.

“Lydia!” Allison heard, loudly whispered from several rows down and across the aisle from her. She looked up to see the redhead from earlier staring at her – or rather, her chest – all subtlety abandoned.

Allison quirked her head to the side, a playful curiosity crossing her face. The movement clearly caught the attention of the other girl – Lydia, if she heard correctly – whose gaze snapped up to meet hers. Her cheeks flushed red and she turned back around. Allison let out a quiet laugh to herself.

 

 

Lydia was quietly sitting, completely embarrassed that Allison had once again caught her staring.

“Hey, Lydia, can I-“ Stiles began next to her. 

“Stiles,” she angrily whispered, “if I hear one more word out of you, I am going to personally ensure that not one member of the cheerleading team ever, _ever_ even thinks about approaching the vicinity of your genitals.” 

Apparently Lydia’s voice wasn’t as hushed as she had thought, as a snort of laughter came from behind her immediately following her threat. Lydia dared a glance over her shoulder and saw Allison attempting to cover the giggles coming from her mouth.

Lydia looked back at Stiles, whose mouth had fallen open in offense.

“ _Ever_ ,” she added.

 

\-- 

 

The rest of the class went by without incident, mostly due to the fact that Lydia refused to chance any more silent exchanges with the brash-yet-still-attractive, pot-smoking entity that had somehow taken over her day.

When Professor Blake finally dismissed the class, having only assigned the first four chapters of Jane Eyre for reading, Lydia did her best to make her exit quick and conflict-less. Stiles still wasn’t saying anything after her threat to make his life sexless for the foreseeable future, but was definitely giving her strange looks throughout the lecture, and was now giving her one that questioned if he had permission to speak. 

She chose to ignore him and threw her bag over her shoulder, spinning into the aisle and very nearly knocking over the person who was already standing there. She reached out instinctively to help, only to find her hands now grabbing the arms of the girl she’d been caught staring at several times that day.

“Jesus-“ Allison blurted, caught off guard. Lydia’s mouth fell open.

 “I, um, ” she began, but couldn’t seem to find the rest of her words. Allison stood up straight, and looked at her while she tried to finish her sentence. There was a pause where the two were standing awkwardly, Lydia’s hands still on the other girl’s bare biceps. Allison raised her eyebrows.

“I like your shirt,” Lydia said, nothing else coming to her mind. She mentally kicked herself.

“Great,” Allison said incredulously. “Can I, um…?” She glanced down at her arms, where Lydia was still holding on for dear life.

Lydia immediately released her grip and took a step back. Allison smiled awkwardly and shrugged her messenger bag further onto her shoulder. As much as Lydia tried, she couldn’t hide the pained expression that crossed her face.

“I’ll um,” she smirked, amused at Lydia’s reaction. “I’ll see you around.”

Unable to redeem herself from the situation, Lydia simply nodded as Allison continued down the aisle toward the door. Lydia looked up at the ceiling, silently demanding an explanation from an entity that she may or may not believe in. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora and Allison crash a frat party.

Cora sat on the countertop of her tiny apartment, a spliff dangling from her fingers. Allison was searching through the dismally stocked cupboards.

“So I overheard some lacrosse-heads talking about a frat party tonight,” Cora said,  taking a puff. 

“A frat party?” Allison scoffed. “You really want to go hang out with a bunch of jocks and preppy douchebags?”

She pulled out a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard. She put a slice in the toaster. 

“Well, you never know,” Cora said, “there might be some impressionable freshmen cheerleaders there, if you know what I mean.” 

She emphasized her statement by making a V with her fingers and wiggling her tongue in between them. Allison rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure all of those well-behaved right wing nuts are going to be so excited to have your face between their legs.”

Cora took a final drag from her cigarette and put it out in the ashtray beside her.   
  
“College is a time for experimentation, Al. I can be the lesbian that helps them find their true, frat boy hating, pussy loving, ways. And you can be too.” 

“You’re delusional.” 

“I prefer the term _‘optimistic’_.” 

The toaster chose that moment to pop up, jolting Allison into the air. Cora laughed loudly, earning her a punch to the shoulder, but that didn’t deter her giggles. Allison crinkled her nose and spread the peanut butter over her toast.

“I’m assuming that we weren’t _actually_ invited to this party?” she asked.

Cora smiled, hopping off the counter.

“Come on Al,” she said, wrapping her arms around Allison. “Crash the dumb straight people party with me.” 

Allison turned in her arms, holding her peanut butter toast in one hand. Cora looked up at her through her naturally long eyelashes, pouting out her bottom lip. Allison raised her eyebrows skeptically, only to be mirrored with a pleading eyebrow raise from Cora.

“Fine,” she sighed.

Cora smiled.

“But don’t blame me if I get in a fight with some nasty frat boy who hits on me,” Allison added. 

“If any boys step into your space, I’ll be right there with you, babe,” Cora smirked, pecking Allison on the lips. Allison tried not to smile, but she did anyway. 

Cora released her hold around Allison, then quickly ducked forward and stole a bite of the toast in Allison’s hand.

“Hey!” Allison shouted, as Cora skipped away from her. 

“Shorry, ah can’t talk,” Cora mumbled around the bite, heading into the bedroom. “Ver’s food in my mouf.” 

“You fucker, that bite was huge!” Allison said, chasing her friend through the doorway.

 

 

The party was booming around her, but Lydia’s attention was elsewhere as she held a barely touched red solo cup, her other arm crossed over her chest. Just as she leaned against the wall, two of her teammates approached.

“Lydia, you’ve been standing there for at least 15 minutes and haven’t spoken to anyone,” Malia said, her voice raised over the loud music.

“Hmm?” Lydia said, head snapping to Malia just one moment before her eyes did. 

“And you’ve only taken like two sips of your drink,” Kira added from Malia’s left. “What’s the deal?” 

Lydia opened her mouth to respond, but Stiles suddenly appeared on the other side of Malia, cutting her off.

“What’s going on?”

He looked down at Lydia’s full drink, and an offended expression immediately fell upon his face. 

“Lydia, that had better not be the same drink you were working on when I saw you a half hour ago,” he continued.

Lydia threw up her hands to cut off any of her friends from interrupting her further. Their mouths snapped shut.

“Look, I’m just not really feeling the party right now,” Lydia said calmly, though admittedly a little ticked off. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, new classes, new professors -” 

“New boys to crush on,” Malia added.

Immediately and inexplicably, Lydia’s mind snapped to Allison. She zoned out briefly, thinking of their earlier encounter, before shaking her head and coming back to the present. 

“Yeah, okay, I’m taking over this situation,” Stiles said. “You need alcohol.”

Lydia glared at him, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Nuh uh,” he said, shaking his head. “Not good enough.” 

She went to take another sip to spite him, then found more vodka cranberry in her mouth than anticipated when Stiles pushed the bottom of her cup upward. She gulped the excess down quickly.

“That’s the spirit – chug! Chug! Chug!” 

Stiles smiled as Malia and Kira quickly joined in the chant, and Lydia decided to go with it.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Several other voices jumped in just as Lydia finished off the drink. She brought the cup down and wiped her lips, now stained slightly pinker from the cranberry. Admittedly, she felt slightly more relaxed, but she wasn’t about to let Stiles have the satisfaction.

“Wow, Martin, I’m shocked,” said a voice from the side, before she could tear Stiles a new one. 

She turned to see Jackson Whittemore, a third year business major and co-captain of the lacrosse team – not to mention a notorious player. He had a predatory look in his eye.

“Didn’t know you knew how to let loose,” he said coyly. 

She looked over to Malia and Kira, who were had their full attention waiting for Lydia’s response. Despite her desire to just quietly sip away at drinks in the corner, she knew she had appearances to maintain. Besides, maybe this would help take her mind off that Allison girl and the girl she was kissing. Not that she had been fixating on that aspect, or even thinking about it at all.

At that thought, she determinedly turned back to Jackson, smiling.

“Come out onto the dance floor and I’ll show you some other things you didn’t know about me,” she said.

She grabbed Jackson’s hand and pulled him toward the dance floor,  catching Malia and Kira’s delighted expressions in her periphery as she passed.

“You’re welcome!” Stiles called, though no one really paid it any attention. 

Lydia guided Jackson into the thick of the drunk students, then turned to face him as she moved her hips with the music. Jackson smirked and stepped closer to Lydia, resting his hands on her waist. Lydia half-smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t entirely into it.

As the beat went on, the bass thudding in both of their ears, Jackson closed the remaining space between them. Lydia, on the other hand, had her full attention on a tall brunette that had just crossed into her line of sight – Allison.

Distracted, Lydia allowed her body to be pulled closer into Jackson’s, her head now resting just beside his and creating a perfect view of Allison and the smaller brunette on her side. A heat grew in Lydia’s stomach when she recognized her as the same girl from the quad.

It was fine, really. It was fine – or at least, that’s what Lydia kept telling herself. But why were they there? Allison and her friends certainly wouldn’t have been invited to a Delta Phi party. She observed the two as they navigated the crowd, but looked away immediately when she caught sight of Allison grabbing the other girl’s hand. That was none of her business. Lydia pulled back from Jackson.

“I think I need some air,” she said, quickly turning and abandoning him in the sea of gyrating bodies.

She heard Jackson say something behind her, but ignored him in favour of looking to where Allison and her… friend had been standing. But the two of them had already disappeared.

 

 

“Ugh, I could smell the axe from outside the house, but this is a thousand times worse,” Cora said, wrinkling her nose. Allison gripped her hand and pulled the two of them through the crowd.

“Well, that’s what you get for crashing a _frat party,_ Cor,” Allison responded. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and see what booze we can scavenge.” 

After an incredibly awkward shuffle and several passes at them – to which Allison responded, “Sorry, I don’t do dick,” – and an encounter in which Cora very nearly punched a dude who grabbed her ass, they made it to the kitchen.

Which shockingly, was void of people. Alcohol on the other hand, was bountiful. A happy line of hard liquor bottles sat on the counter, which Cora hopped up next to and began surveying. Allison opened the fridge.

“Beer?” she asked.

 “What kind?”

 Allison looked at her flatly.

 “You ask that like I’m going to name some shitty kind and you’re going to turn it down. It’s _free beer_ , Cor.”

 Cora gasped theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest.

 “Are you suggesting that I’m not the classiest of classy beer connoisseurs, Miss Argent?”

 “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Miss Hale,” Allison responded.

 Cora laughed as Allison broke two PBRs out of their plastic.

 “You fucker,” Cora said, catching the can Allison tossed at her.

 As the two of them cracked their beers, two boys wandered into the kitchen – one with too many moles and one with a jaw that wasn’t quite straight. The paler one – who Allison swore she recognized from somewhere – was tripping over his feet, but seemed to regain his balance when he saw the two girls.

 “Heyyy, ladies!” he yelled. The other three kitchen residents flinched at his loud volume.

 “Oh, sorry,” he said, more quietly. “Heyyy,” he whispered.

“Heyyy,” Cora said mockingly. Crooked jaw laughed.

“I’m Scott,” he said.

“Allison,” Allison responded, raising her beer. Cora gave her an irritated look. Allison gave it right back, beckoning her to speak.

“I’m Cora,” she sighed from the counter.

“And I’m Stiles!” yelled the moley one. He noted the looks given to him and nodded once, raising a finger to his lips.

“Sorry, he just did two beer bongs in a row – he’s a little drunk,” Scott said.

“Yes I am!” Stiles added, putting his arm around Scott. “BUT it looks to me like you two ladies are not _nearly_ as drunk as I am, and that’s a problem.”

“Did you just get here?” Scott asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Cora and Allison looked at each other, simultaneously attempting to come up with a story. They had just gotten there – it was too soon to be kicked out already.

“We’re um… friends of a friend,” Allison said, maintaining eye contact with Cora, who nodded.

“Friends of a friend,” Cora repeated, taking a drink of her beer and turning back to the boys.

“Alright, cool,” Scott replied, as Stiles leaned further into him. “Who’s the friend?”

An awkward pause hung in the air, Cora’s mouth opening but no sound coming out.

“Lydia!” Allison blurted, suddenly remembering where she recognized moley kid from.

“Lydia?” Cora asked, clearly confused as to why Allison hadn’t picked a more common name that wouldn’t get them caught crashing the party. Allison’s eyes widened and she nodded. 

“Mhmm, we’re in the same English class.”

“You!” Stiles said, or rather, shouted, coming out of his stupor. “I _knew_ I recognized you from somewhere. You’re the girl Lydia was staring at for half the lecture.”

Allison’s cheeks suddenly became red, something that she was decidedly attributing to the three sips of beer she had had.

“That’s cool,” Scott said. “I didn’t realize Lydia really had friends outside of the squad or the team.”

“Right, the squad,” Cora said, her voice filled with pseudo-enthusiasm. “Rah rah, go sports and all that stuff.”

“You’re funny,” Stiles said, staring at Cora. “She’s funny, isn’t she, Scott?”

Scott smiled, getting a sturdier hold on Stiles and rubbing one hand on his back.

 “Yeah, buddy, sure.”

Cora chuckled.

“So what, is this guy your boyfriend or something?” she asked Scott, watching the way the two moved familiarly with one another. Stiles stood up fully at that, stepping out of Scott’s hold on him.

 “Whoa, whoa, no fucking homo, alright?” he said, his defenses quickly up. “Me and Scott are bros. The best of bros. Brosephs for _life_.”

 His words were slurred, but determined. Irritated expressions crossed both Cora and Allison’s faces.

 “Besides, we wouldn’t let any faggots on our team anyway,” he added. “S’not fuckin’ natural.”

 Allison took a small step forward at that, her fist suddenly clenched. Cora held out a hand to stop her from moving forward any further. The two girls’ movement escaped Stiles’ drunken vision, but Scott certainly noticed. He stood quietly at Stiles’ side, clearly uncomfortable with the whole exchange. Allison glared at Cora, but stepped back.

 “Well, that’s a good thing,” she said sarcastically from the fridge. “You’d hate for some _fag_ to get a look at that tiny cock of yours and think you less of a man than he was, wouldn’t you?”

 “Excuse me?” Stiles asked Allison incredulously. “I have a great dick.”

 He turned and leaned toward Cora.

 “I have a _great_ dick,” he repeated, winking.

 That was enough for Allison. She walked over to the counter and pulled Cora off of it, away from the drunk lacrosse player.

 “Come on babe, let’s get out of here,” she said, threading her hand in Cora’s hair and kissing her. It wasn’t a soft kiss, but a purposeful one. Cora seemed to pick up on Allison’s intent, and responded fully.

 “Hell _yeah_ , let’s get out of here,” Stiles said suggestively.

 Allison pulled away from Cora, looking her in the eyes in an apology that her actions didn’t have the effect she was hoping. She turned to Stiles, who’s features did nothing to hide his intent with the two girls.

 “I meant just me and Cora,” she said, her tone flat. “I don’t want your homophobic dick – or _any_ dick for that matter – anywhere near me.”

 Stiles was taken aback. Scott grabbed at his arm. 

“Stiles, come on, buddy, let’s just get you some fresh air, alright?”

Stiles scoffed and shrugged his arm out of Scott’s grasp. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, turning away. “Fucking dykes.”

Again, Cora had to stop Allison from moving toward Stiles, her fist once again clenched and ready for contact. Scott looked back at them apologetically before guiding his friend out toward the backyard. Allison’s mouth was held in a flat line, her shoulders filled with tension. 

“Al, hey,” Cora said, turning her friend to face her.

“This is why I didn’t want to come,” Allison said. “Fucking frat parties always have these fucking dudebros who think that –“

“Al, come on,” Cora cut her off, putting her hands on either side of Allison’s face. “It’s too fucking early in the evening to get in a fight. We’re not even drunk yet.”

Allison looked down, conceding.

“Yeah, yeah, you know I’m right,” Cora continued. “Come on. We’ll chug these beers and head out on the dance floor, yeah?”

Allison rolled her eyes, but smiled.

“Yeah.” 

“Hell yeah,” Cora said happily, clinking her can with Allison’s.

 

 

 Lydia sat on the front step, breathing in the fresh air. Most of the party was taking place either inside or behind the house, so she was alone out front. The music still thumped inside, but it was muted enough that she could relax. She closed her eyes and leaned back onto her elbows, sighing from the appreciated relief.

 Just as she was about to lean back even further, the door opened behind her, nearly whacking her in the head. The music escaped and hit Lydia like speeding truck, blaring about how the ceiling couldn’t hold someone.

 “Lydia!” Heather’s voice came from above her.

 “Hey,” Lydia said, smiling tiredly.

 “You’re getting sleepy already? Come on, it’s Macklemore! Get in here and dance with me!”

 “Heather, I’m not really –“

 Heather tugged on Lydia’s arm, getting her to stand up.

 “Nope, I’m not taking no for an answer. We’re going in, you’re going to dance to Macklemore with me, and then you can _maybe_ come back out here and mope some more.”

 Lydia hesitated, then smiled, knowing Heather would just keep trying to persuade her until she gave in.

 “Fine, I _guess._ ”

 Heather squeaked happily, and pulled Lydia back into the party, singing along to the music. Lydia laughed - her friend’s energy was undeniably contagious.

 When the two got to the dance floor, Lydia put a hand over her mouth, laughing bashfully as Heather danced in a way that was mostly just excited bouncing, all while singing along.

 “So we put our hands up like the ceiling can’t hold us,” she scream-sang at Lydia. “Come on Lydia, sing with me!”

 Lydia smiled, figuring it was best to just go with it. Heather wouldn’t let her off the hook if she didn’t participate.

 “Like the ceiling can’t hold uuuus,” Lydia sang, and though it was not with full enthusiasm, Heather was very excited.

Lydia couldn’t argue that she was feeling better, and soon was fully belting out the lyrics. The two laughed and bounce-danced to the ridiculous party anthem, unashamed about their inability to keep up with the pace of the words when they tried to rap along. The party had started off on a weird note, but Lydia was happy about Heather’s tough love in dragging her back in.

The last words of the song rang through the party, and though Lydia had already fulfilled her agreement with Heather, she smiled at her friend when the opening chords of _I Knew You Were Trouble_ started playing. 

“I guess I can stick around for another song,” she said.

“Yes! Yes you can! That’s the Lydia I know and love.”

 Lydia’s eyes and nose crinkled with joy as the two of them began to sing along again. Everyone around them was singing along, terribly off key, and bouncing along to the peppy beat. When the chorus hit and everyone slowed, their movements suddenly becoming theatrically over exaggerated. At the first set of “oh’s” of the chorus, both Lydia and Heather as well as more than half of other dancers punched a hand into the air.

Lydia laughed, enjoying the moment, but was caught by surprise when she saw Allison standing in the crowd of dancers. Her face was inches from the other girl’s as the two screamed the second set of “oh’s” at each other.

Lydia quickly looked away and back to Heather, half-heartedly singing the next verse and trying to get back into the happy headspace she had just been in. She closed her eyes and focused. The second chorus came up and Lydia opened her eyes, singing along and looking back at the space where Allison was, only to find that Allison was watching her, as well.

Lydia kept dancing, but the was lost on the lyrics as she and Allison held each other’s gaze for a moment. When it became too much for Lydia, she once again found herself abandoning her partner on the dance floor, this time without uttering an excuse.

She stepped out the front door, her mind stirring. She could not figure out why exactly she was so thrown by this girl, and why she suddenly began appearing everywhere Lydia went. Standing on the grass, she huffed out a breath and looked up at the stars. The door opened behind her.

 “Heather, I just a break, the music was getting too loud.”

 “Yeah, I wasn’t exactly feeling it in there either,” said a voice that was definitely not Heather’s.

 Lydia turned around to see Allison standing at the bottom of the steps. Caught off guard, she cleared her throat, but couldn’t come up with anything to say. Allison smirked at her.

 “I like your shirt,” she said playfully, gesturing to Lydia’s loose floral tank top, hanging over a black pencil skirt.

 Lydia’s guards went up. She wasn’t about to be poked fun at by some dyke who was screwing up the whole mood of her evening. Allison seemed to notice the change in her posture because she immediately spoke again.

 “I’m just messing with you,” she said. “You know, from earlier… after English class?”

“What English class?” Lydia said, playing naïve.

Allison nodded, smiling exasperatedly at Lydia’s passive aggression. Well, two could play at that game.

“You know, the one where you kept staring at me?” she asked, stepping closer to the other girl. “Or was that earlier in the quad? Or again, just now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lydia said, trying her best to maintain eye contact. She refused to show weakness.

The space between the two of them was smaller now.

“Look, Lydia, it’s Lydia, right?” Allison asked, to which Lydia did not respond. Allison took a step closer. “If you’re scared about the fact that you’re secretly into girls, that’s alright – there’s no reason the squad has to find out about your little crush.”

She winked, gently sliding her hand onto Lydia’s waist. Lydia flinched at the touch, immediately slapping Allison’s hand away.

“I’m not a fucking dyke,” she said angrily.

At that moment, the front door opened and Stiles and Scott stumbled out. Lydia took a step even further away from Allison. Noting the tension between the two girls, Scott approached them, Stiles quickly following behind.

 “Everything okay?” Scott asked, concerned.

 “This lesbo was making the moves on me,” Lydia said, stepping toward Scott and Stiles, then turning to face Allison. “I’m just glad you two came out before anything got out of hand.”

 “Wait, what?” Stiles asked, now more sober than his and Allison’s previous interaction. “She said you invited her here.”

 Allison grimaced and raised her hands in the air, shrugging when she couldn’t come up with anything to say. The door opened again.

“Dude, there you are,” said Cora, coming down the steps. “You just fucking disappeared on me.”

She surveyed the tension in the situation in front of her.

“Al, what’s going on?”

“Come on Cor, let’s get out of here,” Allison said, still looking at Lydia.

“But we –“

“Cora.”

Hearing the urgency of Allison’s tone, Cora bit her tongue and walked away from the house. Allison shared one last look with Lydia before turning away.

Lydia watched the their backs for a moment, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt in her stomach that she couldn’t explain. She looked down quietly, trying to ignore the concerned looks she was now receiving from Scott and Stiles.

“Are you alright, Lydia?” Scott asked, turning her to face him. She nodded.

“I think I’m just going to get my coat and go home,” she said, doing her best to hide the strange sadness she now felt. Scott rubbed her shoulder, and guided her back into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's a bit of an intro to the angst - I hope you guys like it! More chapters will be coming soon!
> 
> Again, feedback and comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. :) Let me know what you think!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading. xoxoxox


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison has a bit of a housing issue. Lydia whips her cheerleading squad into shape.

Allison lay in the grass, her hair spread out among the blades. Her phone chimed on repeat. She looked over at it, but upon seeing the name, grimaced and threw it back on the ground. 

“The roommate again?” Erica asked.

“Yep,” Allison replied curtly, not sitting up or opening her eyes.

“You going to answer?”

“Nope.”

“What’s going on with your roommate?” Isaac asked, his head resting on Boyd’s leg.

Allison opened her eyes begrudgingly as Cora responded. 

“She’s kicking Ally out so that the boyfriend can move in." 

“Shitty, dude.”

“Why don’t you just move in with Cora?”

Allison groaned to herself as she sat up, crossing her legs.

“Have you seen her apartment?” she asked. “It’s fucking tiny. It’s squished enough when I stay over for one night. So, both of us actually living there? Are you kidding me?”

“First off, fuck you for bashing my home,” Cora said pointedly, which earned her a flat look and middle finger from Allison. She returned the favour. 

“But,” she continued, “She’s right. My apartment is tiny. And second, I don’t need her twat blocking me when I want to bring girls over. No offense.”

“Likewise,” Allison said. “No offense,” she added, smirking weakly.

“What other options do you have, then?” Isaac asked.

“Nothing!” Allison said in a burst of frustration. “Everything on craigslist is way too expensive, and everyone I know around campus already sorted out their housing situation last semester.”

She followed up by sighing and rubbing her eyes.

“Ugh, I’m just mad that my roomie didn’t tell me sooner.”

 As if on cue, Allison’s phone lit up again, the default cheery tone going off on repeat. Allison looked at the screen and groaned once more, clicking it off and tossing it back into the grass.

“Speak of the devil,” Erica said.

“What am I supposed to say to her?” Allison asked. “’Oh, hey, Braeden. Yeah, no, it’s fine that you’re replacing me with a mountain man. Totally cool.’ I mean, the dude’s fine, but he’s so weird and broody.” 

“Who’s the mountain man? Do we know him?” Erica asked. 

“Some dude named Derek, I don’t really know much else about him. Except that he’s the reason my super cool roommate is now my super cool ex-roommate.” 

The dismay in her voice earned her sympathetic looks from the others. A moment passed before Boyd spoke up.

“You could probably still get into the dorms,” he said. 

“Boyd,” Allison said sternly, “you had better be fucking with me.”

“Come on Al,” he said. “It won’t be that bad. Just see if you can get in for a semester, and then find a new place when the school year is done.”

“The dorms, though, really?” she asked incredulously. “That would mean sharing a room with someone who I have no control over choosing, practically zero privacy, and community bathrooms. There’s no fucking way.”

“Allison,” Cora said, and Allison knew she was getting serious. They rarely used one another’s full names. “It’s really looking like you don’t have much of a choice.” 

Allison sighed, falling back onto the grass.

“Fuck.”

 

 

“Ladies, get those kicks higher!” Lydia yelled at the squad before here. “This is not some high school glee club, this is college cheerleading, so get it together!” 

The group performed their final tumbles and closed off the routine with a pose. Lydia paced in front of them, nodding to herself as she assessed the group. The team held their positions, each of them staring at Lydia as they waited for the command to break.

“Okay, bring it in,” she said, finally, when she noted that Malia’s face was turning an unhealthy shade of red. Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief and huddled into seated positions on the ground in front of Lydia.

“Alright, nice job everyone – I’ve just got a few notes. Caitlin, I need you to tighten up for the basket tosses, and Liam,” she paused, pointing at the small blond. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to cop a feel during the lifts.” 

Even through his workout-driven flush, Liam’s cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. The squad chuckled.

“Okay, if no one else has any further comments, everyone grab some water and stretch it out – Malia, Kira, you lead.”

As Lydia turned to pack up her bag, Malia hopped up and began to arrange the rest of the squad in a stretching. Heather, however, stepped away from he group and approached Lydia.

“Hey, I hear about what happened at Danny’s party on Friday,” she said. “Are you okay?”  

“It was nothing, Heather,” Lydia responded, not allowing the memory to fluster her in front of her squad. Heather opened her mouth to continue, but was cut off by a loud, feminine catcall from across the fence.

 

 

Allison’s crew walked with her across campus toward her tragic dorm room fate, but were paused by Cora when she caught an eyeful of the cheerleading squad stretching on the football field. 

“Ow, ow! Looking good, ladies!” Cora yelled through a cupped hand as she blatantly ogled the girls’ tiny uniforms. The blonde and redhead who were standing separate from the group snapped their heads around at the cry, searching for the source of the sound. The rest of the squad briefly gave their attention, but quickly went back to focusing on their task at hand.

Erica eyed up a petite Asian girl, who was leaning in between the legs of another girl, pushing one up as far as it would go – a typical quad stretch that just so happen  to bring participants up close and personal.

“Yeah baby, you stretch her real good,” she called, earning her a light _thwack_ on the head from Boyd.

“I still can’t believe I’m the one that’s labeled as a horndog in this group,” Isaac weighed in, pouting. 

Cora squinted her eyes at the blonde and the redhead, trying to place where she knew the latter from. A bell went off in her head and she looked glanced over to Allison.

“Shit dude,” she said, “is that the girl from-?”

Allison, who had been more focused on the misery of her journey to the university’s housing office, hadn’t been paying attention. At Cora’s unfinished question, she looked up at the girls on the field, suddenly locking eyes with the redhead, who was still looking over at the group.

 

 

“Ugh, it’s _that_ crew again,” Heather said, grimacing as her eyes scanned over the group at the edge of the field. Lydia, irritated at the group for disrespecting her team, turned to fully face them.

“Hey!” Lydia yelled. “This is a closed practice!”

 

 

Cora, observing Allison’s reaction to her question, knew the unspoken answer. She turned her voice back to the cheerleaders, namely the impolite redhead.

“Hey!” she responded angrily, “There’s no need to be scared of a couple of _dykes,_ asshole!”

“Cora!” Allison blurted, grabbing her friend’s arm.

“What? She’s a douchebag, Al, she has the right to be informed of such.”

The rest of the group had quieted down, now observing the exchange between Allison and Cora. They were aware that there was something more that they weren’t informed of, but could tell by the two girl’s expressions that it was best to refrain from asking. Allison sighed and looked away from Cora to Isaac, Erica, and Boyd.

“Come on, let’s just get me moved into that shithole, okay?”

The four of them smiled weakly at her, nodding and walking away from the field.

 

 

 Unprepared for the strong retort, Lydia stood with a shocked expression on her face, shaken by the previous exchange. For some reason, the words from Allison’s friend made her feel… guilty? But she had nothing to be guilty about. She had been in every right to call out Allison that night – she was the one who had been preyed upon, after all.

 She cringed internally. The thought of herself as prey made her feel dirty, somehow. _And_ , her brain reminded her, _it’s not generally the prey who watches the predator like they’re on a hunt and haven’t been fed in weeks._

 For the umpteenth time in a series of stares that Lydia should have put a halt to after the first instance, Lydia watched Allison as she and her group of friends walked away from the field, a strange wave of defeat falling over her.

 “Lydia, was one of those girls the one who-?”

 “Shut up, Heather,” Lydia said quickly, cutting her teammate off. She sighed once, taking a moment to suppress the confusing mix of emotions she was feeling.

 “I just want to make sure you’re okay to lead the team, Lydia. If what happened with that lez is throwing you off your game, then…” she paused, contemplating how she wanted to finish her sentence.

 A silence had fallen over the squad, most of whom where now observing the exchange between the two girls as they continued their cool down. Now feeling a rage burning in her stomach, Lydia looked over Heather’s shoulder at them.

 “Parrish, Liam, get over here,” Lydia called, stepping away from Heather before she could go on any further.

 The two boys stood from their folded positions on the ground, coming up to stand before their captain.

 “Hands together, I need you to basket toss me.”

 Complying, Parrish and Liam crossed and grasped one another’s hands as Lydia stepped between them and hopped seamlessly onto the basket they had created for her.

 “On three, ready?”

 “Ready,” they replied simultaneously.

 “One, two, three-”

 On the last count, Lydia was thrown into the air, keeping her body held tight before flipping backward and twisting fully, then falling seamlessly back into the arms of Parrish and Liam.

 “Thank you boys, that will be all,” she said, stepping back toward Heather.

 “Let me make something clear,” she said sternly, glancing over to the team to make sure that they were listening, albeit discreetly. “If you _ever_ undermine me in front of my squad again, I will have you doing water bottle runs for the rest of the season while everyone else competes, got it?”

 Heather nodded once, not risking any more words with the mood Lydia was now in. Lydia nodded in confirmation, turning back to the squad. They all quickly did their best to pretend like they hadn’t been eavesdropping. 

“Alright, that’s it for today, team,” Lydia said, “Everyone go home and get some rest." 

As the rest of the cheerleaders finished up their stretches, Lydia grabbed her bag and gave Heather one last look before heading off the field and to the showers.

 

 

Cora sat with Allison on the tiny dorm bed, staring at the already decorated half of the room. The other three had left to grab some food after Allison had found out which room she would be staying in. The remaining two had spent the rest of the evening moving in basic bedding and packing up the clothes that Allison had been keeping at Cora’s. Despite being pissed about the whole situation, Allison was quite surprised with how quickly it had all transpired.

 “It won’t be that bad, Al,” Cora said, putting an arm around her friend. Allison leaned into the gesture.

 “But,” she continued, “your roomie does look like one hell of a prep.”

 Allison frowned comically as she and Cora looked over the fashion clippings on the wall, lined by nearly a dozen bright pink butterflies. Her eyes then sought the singular messenger bag of clothes at the end of the bed.

“Goddamnit, Braeden,” Allison muttered, earning her a sympathetic rub of her arm.

“Alright, alright, yes, it sucks, but moping around isn’t going to do anything for you,” Cora said, standing up. “I’m going to head out, but I’ll be back in the morning to take you to pick up the rest of your stuff from your old place, then you and I are going to make this dorm room Cora Hale-approved.”

Allison smiled weakly as Cora reached into Allison’s bag and pulled out her well-decorated MacBook.

“Watch _Imagine Me and You_ ,” she said, handing the computer to her friend. “That always makes you feel better.

Allison smile grew slightly.

“Thanks,” she said.

Cora smiled back, kissing Allison’s hair before ruffling it. She opened the door and turned around.

“Text me to let me know if your roommate ends up murdering you,” she said jokingly.  
  
“I’ll be sure to text you in my murdered state,” Allison quipped right back. Cora smiled.

“See you in the morning, Al.”

“See you in the morning, Cor.”

Cora closed the door behind her and Allison immediately curled up underneath her blankets, opening her computer and pulling up _Imagine Me and You_ from her movies folder.

 

 

About forty minutes into the movie, Allison was fairly distracted from the entire situation at hand, more focused on the love story of Rachel and Luce than the problems in her own life.

Then the door opened.

Allison looked up from her computer screen and saw before her a petite body with a bright red of hair, and immediately everything became exponentially worse than it had been before. The expression on the other girl’s face before her seemed to indicate that she felt the exact same way.

“What the hell are you doing in my room?” Lydia asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took a while - school's back in session and is crazy busy, but the new chapter is here! 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think and if you want to ready more. :) Things are about to get complicated with the girls and I am PUMPED. 
> 
> Also, to clarify, in this story, Cora and Derek and not related. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading and for leaving your comments and kudos. xoxox

**Author's Note:**

> I had a desperate need for college AU Allydia, so I took matters into my own hands.
> 
> The tags don't have come characters in it that I know people want to see, but rest assured, they'll be showing up in the next few chapters! Also, it's not angsty yet, but just hang in there. You'll see.
> 
> Let me know if you liked it and want more!


End file.
